


A Relative Term

by smilelinski



Series: Embedded [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, something’s afoot!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilelinski/pseuds/smilelinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What’s going on with Wendy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Relative Term

Wendy’d never known how to feel about Pan, the boy with poison smiles and wicked eyes. Going back to her brothers had been undoubtedly the happiest moment of her life, but… There’s always an exception to happiness isn’t there? 

She’d felt it the moment he died, a shock ripping through her like lightning, and like something was collapsing. The more she thought about it later, the more she was convinced that the Neverland she’d brought back with her was imitating what happened there. Nightmares were all she saw for days, green eyes surrounded by greener forests, pretty girls with dagger smiles, the poor boys had still been on the island, his voice narrating all the while and curling around her like a noose. Her brothers worried of course, but what were they to do? There were moments where she’d wrench her eyes shut and pray for him to let her be free of him, that stupid mocking voice in her head. She’d laugh bitterly- brokenly- and think to herself that even in death the high and mighty Pan still managed to plague her. 

Then one day something changed. A piece shifting under her ribcage, where she’d felt the island crumble weeks before. She’d been washing dishes, humming serenely, when something slotted into place. Furrowing her brow, she set down the inexpensive plate and peered under her collar, tapping around her collarbone before continuing to scrub.  
She grew used to the slight feeling, but her brothers found it odd when she’d pause suddenly and stand up straight before reverting back to what she was doing before. This went on for a few weeks more before it grew to a halt, the feeling only coming about once every three days before stopping altogether.

She’d lay in her bed, tapping the pad of her finger against her chest absently while thinking back to overarching trees and soft dirt between her toes and counting wooden bars while boys laughed distantly. She remembered his footsteps leading up to her, like the beat of a drum sometimes, other times fingers curling around the bars from the outside with no warning. Whenever she sat out by her window it felt like she was swinging again.  
Wendy often thought of what he’d said to her about no one leaving that he didn’t want to leave, thought of that void in her stomach and the heat behind her eyes the entire way back. Stupid girl, she’d think, what did you think was going to happen? 

Then, like vines creeping up cave walls, Peter himself crept into her dreams. She’d close her eyes, only to open them and see him perched on her bed, staring at her. Blink, and he was leaving, wavering until he was nothing but a figment. Days crawled on, and her body began to ache from tensing up in her sleep while she waited for him to return, or leave, or speak, or something.  
Restlessness led to long walks in quiet areas, and she started carrying a journal and writing about things that didn’t remind her of him, wrote about branches on trees and ponds and birds and wind whistling up to the day where she opened the journal and properly read it, seeing him on every page. Cages from tree branches, mermaids in ponds, birds- Wendy bird.  
Wendy burned the journal.

It was hard to sleep that night, her room felt too warm and she’d tried everything in her power to cool it down that didn’t involve opening the window. She gave up at around three in the morning, sweat sticking baby hairs around her face to her skin and loose fitting t-shirt clinging. Her legs shook as she walked to the window, resting her forehead on the glass and breathing out a sigh of relief when she looked up and didn’t see him in the glass. Her fingers didn’t shake as much when she released the latch and her breath didn’t catch when she threw open her window.  
She danced giddily on her way back to the bed, missing the way the second star seemed to wink down at her, right from the place it had disappeared from her sight just a few weeks before. She dreamt of flickering lights and howls, ringing in her ears until she woke up to dirt-caked fingernails and twigs ensnared in her hair. Wendy trembled as she untangling them.

The next time she saw Peter was at the dinner table, feet propped up and smiling like the demon he was fabled to be. Wendy’s jaw dropped as their eyes met, and it took a nudge from John to get her moving towards her chair- positioned right next to Peter. It took her a second to realize no one else could see him, her eyes meeting every member of her family’s face and tilting her chin at Peter to gauge their reactions (which all looked like they thought Wendy was the crazy one.) Wendy slumped down in her chair, startling when Peter laughed lowly in her ear and tugged at her hair. After sitting through five minutes of pinches and tugs Wendy excused herself from the table. 

He was perched cross-legged on her bed when she got there, and she shoved his shoulders. “What are you doing here? What are you doing to me?” He brushed off his shoulders, smirking tauntingly before freezing her in place with the mischievous flash in his eyes.  
“Who says I’m here?”


End file.
